


sleigh bells ring

by Lexie



Category: You Belong With Me - University of Rochester Yellowjackets (Music Video)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexie/pseuds/Lexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He listens to the kind of music she doesn't like. (Christmas carols. It's Christmas carols.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freshman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littledust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/gifts).



> Alternate title for this fic: HOLIDAYS HOLIDAYS HOLIDAYS HOLIDAYS!
> 
> To give credit where credit is due, [wickedtrue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedtrue) is a beta of excellence, and littledust unknowingly wrote the summary to this fic in her brilliant prompt. All apologies to Alaska.
> 
> littledust, I hope you don't mind that I made use of names and a few details from your "You Belong With Me" fics, which I read and loved! Merry Christmas!

“Are you kidding me?” said Devon, cell phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he strung garlands across his apartment's Christmas tree. “Seven guys in that house, and every single one of you is too lazy to go get a Christmas tree?”

“We're not lazy, it's finals!” Ed protested.

Devon waited.

“Okay. We're lazy too,” he said, cracking a grin that Devon could hear in his voice. “Aren't you Jewish? Do you celebrate Christmas?”

“My dad's Jewish, my mom's Catholic,” said Devon. “We went to Mass on Sundays and Hebrew school every other Saturday.” 

Devon's roommates were laughing, which was never a good thing. He glanced up and saw that Jay had put down the egg nog ladle and was standing with his arms wrapped around himself, pointedly pretending to make out with himself. Someone moaned, "Ooh, _Edward_!" and the giggling intensified.

Devon furiously mouthed, 'I WILL CUT YOU,' lunged into the bathroom, and locked the door on them before they could laugh about how red he could feel himself turning.

“So - Hanukkah _and_ Christmas presents?” Ed was saying.

“Yep.”

“Sick,” Ed said, appreciative even over the phone, and he clearly thought that was the end of it.

That was not the end of it.

* * *

“I know it's, like, Charlie Brown,” Devon said through the branches when the door opened the next day. “But it turns out when you're too lazy to get a tree and you leave your super amazing friend to do it at the last minute, the options suck.”

“Holy shit,” said Ed, and while Devon couldn't see his face, he could hear him smiling. He could picture the smiling. God, he had it so bad.

“We don't - I don't think we have a stand or anything, here-” Something brushed Devon's gloves on the trunk and suddenly he wasn't carrying the tree's full weight. Ed pulled him (or, well, the tree, but Devon too by extension!) inside the house and it smelled like cinnamon and crushed pine needles and Devon's heart soared until the moment when he stepped back to let Ed take over, and he saw the devil herself.

Ed's girlfriend was sitting on the couch, wearing fuzzy slippers with her feet on the coffee table, and she was typing away on the MacBook in her lap.

“I thought you said you didn't have plans tonight,” Devon said hoarsely. His cell phone went off in his pocket, playing "Jingle Bells." Vanessa didn't even look up, though she wrinkled her nose.

“I don't, we're just chilling - oh man, it _is_ a Charlie Brown tree, look at this!” Ed laughed, sticking his head into the biggest gap in the branches.

Devon felt like all his limbs had turned into cement. He forced his mouth to move, barely hearing his phone continue to ring. “You said to come over when I said I had a surprise.”

“Yeah, of course! I think Jordan's got a string of those chili pepper lights in his room…”

“I, uh,” said Devon, carefully not looking toward the couch, “I've got an old stand in my car, I'll just go - go get it.”

He left it on the doorstep.

* * *

If he was smart, he’d stay away from the house next door and let his roommate Hanna hook him up with the hot lab partner who she’d been talking up for two months - a guy who had the distinct advantage of not being straight and not having a girlfriend - but nobody had ever accused Devon of being anything other than stubborn and a little stupid when it came to crushes.

"You guys can't put red lights on your house," said Devon two days later, surrounded by Ed's roommates working diligently (some not-so-diligently) on getting ready for their last-minute outdoor light display. Devon's gifted Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, wrapped up in a set of chili pepper lights and decorated with rolls of tape and other household items that were vaguely circular and could be hung on branches. They'd tried to add a package of silver tinsel to the overall effect, but Devon had emphatically disallowed it, on 'tinsel is hideous and tacky and I paid for your tree' grounds.

Marquis looked up sharply. The look on his face instinctively made Devon want to take a step back.

"We don't say 'can't' in front of Marquis," said Jordan, calmly untangling the lights spread across his lap. "He takes it like it's a challenge."

Devon shot Marquis a long, leery look and elected to ignore him. "Seriously," he said. "Only red?"

"What's wrong with red?" asked Ed.

"Oh, nothing," said Devon, "as long as you want the house to look like _Murder Town_."

"He is such a weirdo," Tiant said in passing.

"Hey!" Devon objected. "Right here!"

"You," said Tiant, pointing at him helpfully, " _you_ are such a fucking weirdo."

"It's red lights, it's Christmas," said Jack. "It's not like anybody's gonna think this is the Texas chainsaw massacre."

Devon reached up over his head and turned off the overhead light. There were a couple yells of objection, and then everybody went quiet.

"Yeah," said Jordan, face lit in the blood-red glow. "We should get some white lights."

* * *

"I kinda liked the murder house vibe," said Marquis wistfully, standing outside looking at the front porch railings. They were lit up like candy canes in strings of red and white lights.

Ed glanced over. "Do you really wanna give the kids next door more nightmares?"

" _More_ nightmares?" said Marquis, half-affronted like he knew what was coming.

"Yeah, they've already got to look at your ugly face when you shovel their driveway," said Ed, but he didn't get to "driveway" before Marquis was swearing at him and trying to shove his head into a dirty snow bank.

Devon left them laughing, Ed yelling a battle cry followed quickly by a cry for help as he got a fistful of snow down the back of his shirt.

Inevitably, when they finally came back inside, they totally f'd up Devon's Mario Kart winning streak. 

Devon was in the last lap of Rainbow Road, three of the guys cursing and jabbing each other with their elbows as they jockeyed on the floor. House rules clearly stated that whoever was in the lead got couch privileges - because Ed's roommates had house rules for everything, and it was completely unsurprising that the Mario Kart rules were just as bizarre as the breakfast rules and the party foul rules - so Devon was balanced in a crouch on the cushions, furiously thumbing toward the finish line.

He was sort of vaguely aware of the front door opening, but he was in the zone and fighting not to fall off the edge of the rainbow slide, laughing as Jack swore while a homing beacon beep got louder and louder, and then it happened.

The loveseat dipped and someone shoved a pair of icy feet under his shins. Devon shrieked, " _Jesus Christ,_ " and toppled over across the armrest, and his car sailed directly into the path of a just-fired blue shell and then off the edge of the road.

The players on the floor basically turned into a knot of hysterical laughter and swearing and elbows; from the especially triumphant shout, Devon was pretty sure that Pillsner was the asshole who had blue-shelled him.

Devon had bigger fish to fry. A fish named Ed, who was liberally coated with snow and ice and had piled onto the loveseat despite the fact that it was really not built to accommodate two grown men. His side was pressed up against Devon's and his t-shirt was wet, and all Devon could think was-

"Cold! Fuck!" he yelped, and he slapped at Ed's horrible feet as he tried to burrow them under Devon's knees. "Holy shitting-" Ed kept trying to leech all the warmth out of him, poking and prodding with freezing wet hands and feet.

"Hey, you fell," Ed pointed out helpfully, drawing Devon's attention to the TV just in time for him to watch his newly reincarnated, unattended car fall over the edge again.

Devon started fighting back in earnest.

The battle lasted all of 20 seconds; just long enough for all the other guys to finish the race, and for Ed to win handily.

Devon kicked but it was futile in the end. Ed had sat on Devon's back like he was just another couch cushion. There was nothing remotely sexy about it, thank God (Ed was heavy, and his gross ice-encrusted jeans were soaking through Devon's hoodie), but... But Ed was laughing and patting his head with one big hand when Devon made a disgruntled noise, and the house smelled like balsam from the tree that he had brought, and he just - he just liked this moron so much that it made his chest feel tight for a second.

It passed before he could start to panic about a heart attack or something stupid, but he had apparently been quiet for too long.

Ed said, "Dev?" over the sound of his roommates arguing over what constituted an illegal maneuver and whether Pillsner could be punished for one. His weight lifted a little off Devon's back.

Devon opened his mouth, and Ed's phone rang. Ed picked it up and said, "Hey babe," and then there was just a wet patch where his butt once was, as he wandered into the kitchen with his phone.

Devon stared at the loveseat armrest (which his face had been shoved into) for a long minute. When he turned to the side, he found Jack and Pillsner looking and sounding like they were about to start World War III as they continued to argue, but Kinger watching him silently.

Devon struggled to his feet and said, "That was cheating, I'm going home."

Pillsner and Jack booed him; Jordan yelled, "Sore loser!" from the bathroom.

He took a deep breath, gave them all the finger, and jammed his winter cap on his head. King got up off the floor, still watching him, and said casually, "Taking a smoke break." Jack and Pillsner were already arguing over which course to pick for the next round; they didn't pay him any attention.

Devon couldn't figure out how to get out of the obvious confrontation without making an even more obvious scene, so he only stayed frozen for a second before he said, defeated, "Yeah, yeah" and grabbed his coat off the back of the couch. He heard Ed's laugh from the kitchen. He left.

On the front stoop, Kinger pulled him up short with a grab to the back of his collar. When Devon stopped struggling, King released him and lit a cigarette. "What up, Sawa?"

"Because _that's_ not old yet," said Devon, knowing it was coming out sharp and sulky but unable to stop himself. "You guys really know your mid-nineties heart throbs. I thought I was supposed to be the gay one."

"Pretty sure you still are, bro," said Kinger peaceably. He was leaning against the front door, broad-shouldered and apparently not cold in a white T-shirt and a blue Cookie Monster baseball cap. "If you want Ed to know something, you've gotta tell him; dude's never gonna pick up on it on his own."

Devon felt a rush of something icy cold that could only be pure terror. "He, um, he doesn't need to - I don't want him to know something," he stammered. "He doesn't need to know anything."

"Okay," said Kinger. He exhaled smoke and vapor. "You're both dumbasses, but whatever."

Devon shot him an incredulous look. "Wait. Do you mean Ed isn't str-?"

"Nope," he said. "You wanna know something about my boy, you can ask him."

Devon had a fantasy of shoving Cookie Monster's brim down over his face, but in the end, he walked home in the snow.


	2. Sophomore

"You're over-thinking this," Shakima told Ed over coffee. Starbucks was playing some kind of jazzy up-tempo "Silver Bells" over the sound of a huge number of conversations and buzzing voices; the coffee line was out the door. Shakima looked like she was on the edge of laughing at him, which was what all of Ed's friends did too, when they didn't help at all.

"I don't think I am," he said, letting himself frown. "Last year I was so bad at this-"

"Last year you guys weren't dating," she pointed out.

"-and he gave me such a cool, thoughtful gift-"

"Last year he was pining like a jackass-"

"And he loves this stuff so much, I want to do something, you know, good. This year."

Shakima looked at him. "I don't even know what to do with you," she said, and he let himself slump a little into his hard-backed chair because he was still getting to know Devon's newest roommate, but he thought that meant she was going to help him.

"You do know you could, like, wrap up a brick and he'd love it because it came from you," she said, chin in her hand. "Not that I'm saying you should do that."

"I don't want to do that," he said. "I want to do something-" Ed stopped himself short of saying 'epic.' He _did_ want to do something epic, because the thought of Devon's smile made him want to plan big romantic gestures, but he thought epic might be best saved until next Christmas. They'd only been together eight months. "I want to get something good," he settled on. "Something he'll like; actually like."

Shakima looked at him for a long moment, her head tilted and eyes narrowed. "Look at you, all worked up. Just _ask_ him what he wants."

"I want to figure it out," Ed said, knowing it sounded stupid even as he said it. "I don't want a cheat sheet."

"Okay," she said. He couldn't always read her but he thought she was pleased on Devon's behalf. Shakima had held a grudge longer than any of Devon's other friends, over how long it took Ed to figure out that Devon was in love with him and how much longer it took him to figure out that he felt the same way. She was smiling now, more kindly than she'd ever smiled at him before, and it made him smile back. "Then listen up: I'll teach you the big secret of holiday shopping."

Ed pulled out his phone and took notes.

* * *

The town center in early December was this bizarre mix of holiday cheer and absolute ruthlessness. Even as a group of angelic kids enthralled an audience with carols, Ed caught an elbow to the small of the back. He only recovered from the resulting stumble because Devon grabbed his arm and yanked him upright.

"What is this, the WWF?" Ed grumbled.

Devon didn't release his grip, like if he let go, Ed was going to get body slammed or something. He leaned on Ed. "It's Christmas."

"Exactly! Aren't people supposed to be all joy on earth, peace and goodwill toward men?"

"Look at you," said Devon, admiring. He slid his hand down into the crook of Ed's elbow. "You're so cranky; you're never cranky. I love this!"

"I hate shopping," he admitted. "I love making people happy, but I'd rather do it on the Internet."

"Creepy," said Devon.

He laughed despite himself. "Come on, you know what I mean! Internet shopping, not making people happy!"

"A likely story," Devon flirted, and Ed was smiling even as he got dragged into a kitchen goods store.

Shakima's advice was terrible. Ed paid close attention to everything that Devon picked up or eyed, but Devon wasn't talking about anything that _he_ wanted; he just kept talking about how this apron would be great for Emi or his brother would love that Rodriguez jersey since Devon couldn't exactly afford to buy him Yankees season tickets.

Ed manfully didn't react to that, he thought, but Devon still absently patted his arm because he got that that was basically the least sexy thing he had ever said. Devon was the best. Ed had to find the perfect present for him.

Devon was texting with his brother, taunting him about what he may or may not have been buying him for Christmas. While he was busy laughing at his brother's latest response, Ed grabbed his own phone and quickly texted Shakima, "this isn't working."

"it's not rocket science," she texted back, unsympathetic. "taught u everything i know, ur on ur own."

"Who's that?" asked Devon's voice, and Ed looked up fast. Devon was studying him over the display of Christmas cards between them, his face open and curious and friendly. "You looked like you were about to throw your phone."

"Uh," said Ed, "my sister, it's nothing-" And then Devon's face screwed up, and he turned away and sneezed, hard, four times in a row. 

"Sorry," he said pathetically to the glaring shopper next to him.

Ed frowned and mentally put the sneeze together with the runny nose that Devon had been insisting was caused by the cold afternoon. "Whoa. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he insisted, and then he sneezed again.

Ed checked his phone again on the way home, Devon dozing on his shoulder on the bus. Shakima had taken pity on him and texted one more time. "stop bugging," she'd said, an hour earlier. "doesn't have to be perfect, just pick something dev will like."

* * *

When Devon answered the door, his hair was standing on end and he had a blanket tucked around his shoulders like a cape, and a box of tissues in his hand. He recoiled when he saw Ed standing on the doorstep.

"Stay away, I'm in quarantine!" he said, muffled through the blanket-wearing arm he'd thrown over his mouth.

"You have a cold, not the bubonic plague," Ed said reasonably, and he lifted the shopping bag. "I brought tissues and your present." He let Devon eye him thoughtfully for a minute, and then he gently shouldered him aside and went inside.

The threat of catching Devon's cold was completely worth it, to see the look on his face as he opened each successive DVD that Ed had wrapped in the cheesiest wrapping paper he could find. "I know most of your movies got lost in storage last summer," he said, "so I ran with that."

Devon was tucked against Ed's side, afghan pulled across his lap and hoodie's hood drawn over his ears. He sounded awed. "You remembered all my favorites." He stared down at the brightly-colored used DVD cases in his lap - _Elf, The Losers, Christmas in Connecticut, Breaking Dawn, The Lord of the Rings, Newsies_... It was an eclectic bunch, but Devon had eclectic taste; Ed had scoured eBay and Amazon, counting on quantity over quality.

"I thought we could watch one, while Kinger, Jordan, and Shakima work on the Christmas trees."

He looked a little overwhelmed - hopefully in a good way. "You sent Kinger and Shakima to a Christmas tree lot together?"

"I would've had the guys just get one for your house, too, but I figured Shakima would want to help pick."

Devon was quiet for a minute, and then he pressed his enormous smile against Ed's shoulder. "I'm gonna make out with you so hard when I'm not contagious anymore," he threatened, squeezing Ed's elbow, and then he lifted his hand and sneezed into a tissue.

Ed patted his arm and then put on _The Muppet Christmas Carol_.

When Statler and Waldorf were rattling their chains as the Marley brothers, Ed asked about the big box sitting on the coffee table. "I told my mom we had to decorate trees in my house and in yours, so she donated a box of old ornaments that don't fit into her theme," said Devon. 

Ed leaned over and picked up the box, setting it on Devon's lap and opening the lid. There were endless piles of ornaments inside, in every shape, size, and color. "What's her theme this year?"

"Christmas on the beach. Everything in her house is, like, painted sand dollars and blue/green lights and calypso covers of Christmas carols with wave sounds underneath-"

Ed was laughing before Devon was even halfway through the recital.

"It's fine." Devon reached into the box and pulled out two colored balls and one little reindeer. "It's a lot better than the year she did Victorian Christmas when we were kids and she almost lit the house on fire. Real candles: bad idea!"

"Not a theme fan?"

"I like my Christmas a little more classic," he said. He seemed to think about it for a second, his eyes darting back toward the TV. "But not quite _that_ classic."

Ed grinned lazily. "Classic like chili pepper lights?"

Devon leaned into his shoulder, untangling the hooks for a snowman and an elf. "Exactly."

"I like the sound of southwest Christmfff-" and Ed laughed, muffled, when Devon covered his mouth.


	3. Junior

Devon wasn't sure what woke him up at first, cold and disoriented and a little hungover in an unfamiliar room in the dark, and then he realized that his dork of a boyfriend had an arm around his waist and he was crooning, "Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin'?" in his ear while draping tinsel over his face.

"Oh my God, no," said Devon, and he clumsily tried to roll away, but Ed wouldn't let him go.

"In the lane, snow is glistenin'-"

Devon was freezing and he had a sinking suspicion that his memory of getting caught under the mistletoe, and getting slipped tongue in front of Ed's grandma, wasn't a dream. Drunk Ed had no shame and Drunk Devon had no willpower to resist the application of Ed's face to his. It was a tragedy for the ages. "Where are the blankets?!" he demanded.

"A beautiful sight," Ed sang louder, "we're happy tonight-" He rolled most of his weight across Devon's chest and threw a leg over him for good measure.

"You're a horrible person," Devon wheezed, shoving at him and swiping hideous tinsel off his face. "I can't believe I missed you while we were studying abroad."

He broke off in the middle of the chorus. "It's snowing, and it's Christmas morning," he said. His breath smelled minty, and Devon realized that he was fully dressed when his boot tapped Devon's cold bare foot. "Time to get up, babe!"

"I never should've agreed to spend Christmas with your family when we got back," said Devon, throwing a tragic forearm over his face. "You're always like a hibernating bear in the morning. Where's the bear."

"Gone," said Ed. "It's Christmas!"

"Edward," said a forbidding female voice from the door. Devon would have turned to look, but Ed's head was in the way. "Stop it, we let our guests sleep."

Devon loved Ed's mom. He thought he might have mumbled that into Ed's shoulder, from the way Ed laughed, still a warm, heavy weight on top of him.

"Devon? Devon doesn't count as a guest anymore, come on; he's been coming over forever," said Lizzy, and then Ed grunted and there was suddenly a much heavier weight pressing down on Devon. Two voices started yelling the lyrics of "Silent Night" in his ear.

"I'm up," he groaned; "I'm up!" The weight lessened. He dragged himself up against the headboard and glared balefully. Lizzy was perched on her knees at the foot of the bed, looking amused at him, and Ed was still half in his lap. Their mom had apparently abandoned him; she wasn't standing disapprovingly in the hallway anymore.

"That's what you get for dating my brother," said Lizzy. "He started doing that to us on Christmas as soon as he was old enough to get out of bed by himself." She rolled onto her hip and kicked at Ed. "It's so much worse now that he's the size of a house."

"I let you sleep in," Ed told Devon genially, catching his older sister's foot and shaking it without really even looking at her.

"Sleep in? It's still dark outside!" Mid-sentence, he heard the approach of claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor, and then the dog punctuated his complaint by leaping into the bed. The fat chocolate lab lunged from person to person, her tail thumping Devon's legs as Lizzy laughed and tried to contain an armful of excited dog.

"Where's your other brother?" Devon said. "I want to be prepared if I'm gonna get pigpiled again." He could feel that his hair was smashed flat on one side and sticking straight up on the other. Lizzy, meanwhile, wasn't dressed either but looked like a million bucks, her face scrubbed clean and her dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, like she'd stepped out of some kind of pajama catalog where everyone had perfectly-pressed flannel pants and really white teeth. The whole family was like that; even Kevin, who was going through an awkward gawky stage. Devon had gotten used to feeling like a human disaster in comparison when he visited.

"Kev's sixteen, he thinks he's way too cool for this," said Lizzy, as she failed to avoid the dog licking her face. "Give it a few years, he'll come around again."

Devon must have looked disgruntled, because Ed laughed and promised, "I got him up first," and he leaned over to the bedside table and picked up a styrofoam to-go cup, which he presented to Devon.

Devon slumped with relief and took the cup of coffee, and when Ed crawled out of his lap to sit beside him, Devon comfortably collapsed against Ed's side. The coffee was warm in his hands; he closed his eyes and smelled the steam.

"Where did you even find a coffee shop that was open on Christmas morning, Eduardo?" Lizzy found the blankets and wrapped herself and the dog up in them. She somehow managed to look regal in a snowman-patterned duvet.

He shrugged, shoulder rising and falling under Devon's face. The problem with Devon's whole 'make Ed bear his body weight' plan was figuring out how to drink his latte without spilling all over himself. He stared seriously at it as Ed said, "Henrietta."

"Seriously?" she said. "You went all the way to Henrietta? You're so whipped, dude."

Ed shrugged again. When Devon glanced up at him, he was smiling. "I love you," Devon said. "Don't think this means you're off the hook for being a human alarm clock with bad pitch."

"He's tone deaf, in case you haven't noticed yet," said Lizzy. She leaned out of her blanket cocoon (the dog escaped when she did, and started racing around Ed's bedroom) to pat Devon's shoulder. "Have fun with that." She dumped off the blankets and whistled to the dog, and left them with, "Dad's making omelets," when she shut the door.

It was a solidly excellent Christmas.


	4. Senior

A few days before winter break, Ed hopped the snowbanks to wade to Devon's rented house. He didn't mean for a group of his roommates to follow him like lost puppies (drunk, drunk lost puppies), but it happened, and they all wandered into the middle of a heated argument over the words to the second verse of "The Atheist Christmas Carol." 

Which was how, somehow, he ended up going caroling with nine of Devon's friends and four of Ed's, who slung their arms around each other and happily, tunelessly bellowed their parts.

Luckily the neighborhood knew them by now, or else Ed kind of thought they'd get the cops called on them. The reactions got steadily more confused as they moved away from their immediate neighbors, though at one house, one kid tried to give them candy like they were trick or treating while her sister threw her head back and howled along with them like a tiny wolf.

Marquis and Kinger liked that enough that Ed could see where this was going, and obviously Devon could too. As they walked up the stairs to the next house, Devon dropped back with them.

"Hey," he said. "Those girls thought it was Halloween, but they were six."

" _What_ are you implying?" asked Marquis, clearly enjoying himself.

"He's telling you not to howl," said Ed.

"That sounds stupid, why would we do that?" said Kinger, poker-faced and full of shit, and then something happened behind Ed, and unflappable Kinger's mouth hung open.

Ed blinked. The group launched into a spirited rendition of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer." Devon and Kinger were both staring at the door behind Ed. Devon grabbed Ed's elbow, hard, and then Ed turned around and saw her.

Vanessa was standing in the doorway, silhouetted by warm light behind her. She wore leggings, Uggs, and a big hoodie that Ed thought might have belonged to him once upon a time, her hair longer than he remembered and loose around her shoulders. She looked pretty. She also looked shocked, with a hint of less-than-pleased.

Devon dropped Ed's arm.

Luckily, a couple of the carolers were new friends; people who didn't know to recognize Vanessa. They carried on singing with gusto while recognition rippled through everyone else and several people stopped singing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw Devon elbow his roommate Robbie in the ribs; Robbie coughed, but he stopped staring and started singing.

An unfamiliar girl came to the door behind Vanessa. She started to laugh as she saw them all, and she clapped when they finished the song and all milled about uncertainly. Marquis's new girlfriend obliviously yelled, " 'Carol of the Bells'!" and led the charge into the next song.

Vanessa stood with her roommate, leaning in the doorway and watching Ed; he couldn't read her expression. He took a deep breath and shot her a smile that was hopefully friendly. One side of her mouth tilted up.

"Thank you and goodnight!" yelled Robbie hurriedly as soon as the final voice chimed, and he started shepherding everyone away from the door.

Ed went in the opposite direction. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," Vanessa said, and her roommate looked between them like she wasn't sure what was happening.

"It's been a while," he said. "How've you been?"

"Good." The fact that she didn't rise to the bait and say something like 'Yeah, it's been a while since you dumped me for a dude' already made this a better encounter than the last one they had had when they bumped into each other in the cafeteria a year and a half earlier. "Better."

"That's awesome," he said. "I'm really sorry; I had no idea you lived here, and I know how you feel about Christmas music, so I wouldn't have-"

"I know," she said. "This kind of revenge isn't your style."

"Ed! Let's go!" somebody yelled from the road.

"I'll catch up!" he yelled back. Devon paused on the sidewalk for a long moment before he turned and followed the group. 

"Still dating him, huh?" Vanessa asked, watching them all go; the penny obviously dropped for the roommate, who frowned at Ed and said, "Van-"

"It's cool," said Vanessa. "Pass me my coat?"

Still frowning, almost to the point where it was funny, her roommate passed her a big parka from the hook just inside the door, and then slowly, glaring at Ed the whole time, closed the front door.

"Uh, yeah," said Ed, fighting the urge to shove his hands in his coat pockets and fidget; "yep, still together."

"Two and a half years? Good for you." It only sounded a little aggressive. She pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of her pocket and zipped up the parka, and, after putting a cigarette in her mouth, she offered Ed the pack. When he hesitated, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, dude," she said. "Live a little."

"Devon hates it when I smoke," he said, but he took one anyway.

"You're a loner, Dottie, a rebel," she said, cigarette wagging as she expertly talked and lit it at the same time. She lit his next and he took a deep drag of smoke and cold air.

"I haven't smoked in forever." They were both quiet for a long moment. A car drove by slowly, headlights washing over the dirty snow banks. It was so cold that the exposed skin on Ed's face was starting to hurt. "We never really talked," he said. "You know. After."

"Uh, yeah." She laughed, too loud. "That's because you cheated on me, buddy!"

He heard the sudden rush of blood roar in his ears. "What the hell? _You_ cheated on _me_!" 

"Please! So I flirted with a couple guys and got involved with one of them. You were in love with your best friend!"

The silence was charged, this time. Ed heard the distant sound of fourteen people yell-singing "I Have a Little Dreidl," though it was hard to focus on over being angry and feeling like such a shitheel. Mostly the shitheel part.

"I know," he finally said. "I mean, I didn’t know then. At first. But that wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."

"Ugh," Vanessa said, "you're such a boy scout." She pinched her cigarette between two fingers and glared at him, her mouth set in a thin line. "Why did you date me if you were gay?"

He said, more forcefully, "I like people; I don't care if they're girls or guys or whatever."

"Okay," she snapped, "why didn't you tell me you liked girls or guys or whatever?"

"I don't know," he said. "I didn't tell anyone."

Vanessa raised her eyebrows.

"I guess - it was freshman year. I wanted to fit in. I didn't want to be weird or different."

"So you dated me?" she said, rough. "Token girlfriend?"

"What? _No_ ," Ed said, startled by the question and by the vulnerable catch in her voice. "I dated you because I liked you." Vanessa was cute and cutting and funny and opinionated, always decisive. They went on their first date on the second day of orientation, and if he could have started dating her even sooner, he would have.

She looked at him, long and assessing. "And I didn't, you know," Vanessa gestured with her cigarette, "turn you or whatever?"

Ed did his best not to let himself pull a flat face. "No," he said firmly.

Something in the set of her shoulders loosened, her frown relaxing. "Okay."

"Okay," he echoed, and they looked at each other. He heard twin distant howls.

"Good luck with your weird singing thing," Vanessa said.

He cracked a small smile. "Thanks."

"See you around, Boy Scout."

He left her there on the front steps, finishing her cigarette. She waved to him once he hit the sidewalk. It was a familiar gesture, a sarcastic salute with an underpinning of genuine emotion if you knew to look for it, and it made him grin as he waved back. She quickly lifted her cigarette to her mouth, but her hand couldn't quite hide the edges of her smile.

Ed caught up to his group of singers on Laurel Avenue, where they'd gathered on the sidewalk, Hanna apparently trying to teach them a song in Hebrew. Ed had flicked his cigarette butt into the nearest snow bank, ground it out with the heel of his boot, and popped a breath mint, but the second he slid in next to Devon and threw an arm around his shoulders, Devon groaned and shoved him away.

"You smell like an ashtray," he complained. "Did she make you smoke a pack?"

"Nah," said Ed, putting his arm around him with renewed determination. "I had one cigarette, barely half a cigarette, to keep her company."

Devon rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten his hat, again, so the tips of his ears were red. He glanced over at Ed while Hanna swore at everyone. His expression was soft. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Ed, still surprised. "She barely insulted me and we only yelled a little."

"I don't know if I can deal if we have to be besties with Vanessa Doohan," he said, and Ed shook his head.

"Probably not besties," he said. "Maybe ... not-actively-hostile if we run into her on campus?"

He could see the reluctance in Devon's face and slump, and he thought again that he probably didn't know the full story, on both sides, of what went down between Devon and Vanessa in the five months that Ed spent dating Vanessa while obliviously getting more and more into Devon. He still felt shitty about it all around ("why did _anybody_ even want to get with me; I was so stupid!" he'd groaned a few months after the fact, and Devon had pointedly patted his fresh-from-the-gym bicep, and that had devolved very quickly into Devon laughing hysterically and trying to dodge as Ed threw handfuls of popcorn at him) though he was trying to get over that, because dwelling helped nobody. And after tonight - maybe he could pass Vanessa in the library without wanting to go under the nearest table.

"I could do not-actively-hostile," Devon said. "I guess. If she will too."

"I got that feeling."

"We'll see," Devon said darkly, which - Devon trying to do anything darkly was like watching a puppy try to growl. "Are you laughing at me?!"

"No," Ed said, still laughing.

"I see how it is - abandon me to hang out with your ex-girlfriend and give me secondhand smoke cough-"

"I'm not even smoking near you-" Ed pointed out, laughing harder.

"And then you come back just to _mock_ me?"

"Pretty much," said Hanna, popping up beside Devon. "You're really mockable. What's up, loser; a little help here? These idiots can't get their mouths around 'Ma'oz Tzur.' "

"Hebrew school _twice a month_ ," Devon warned, as Hanna ignored him and pulled him away with her, "when I was 13; I always try to read it backwards!"

* * *

That night, Ed snored so loud that he actually heard the end of the last snort as he came awake.

"Shit," he muttered. As he scrubbed his face with both hands, he wasn't surprised to find Devon's side of the bed empty. He stared groggily at the pillow for a couple of minutes, then rolled out of bed. He gave up on finding a clean pair of socks after spending a minute searching. A glance at Devon's alarm clock told him it was 2:03 A.M., and he went out into the hall barefoot.

The faint glow of lights grew brighter as he descended the stairs. The Christmas tree was on in the living room, colored lights dimly lighting the couch and the coffee table that one of Devon's roommates had made out of four table legs and an old window.

He followed the brighter light into the kitchen, where he discovered Devon sitting on the counter, guiltily frozen with a gingerbread cookie stuffed into his mouth.

"... Hi," Devon said, and crumbs fell out of his mouth. He was wearing loose sweats and a long sleeved shirt of undetermined origin (they both insisted it was originally theirs), along with a winter hat and slippers. He'd only turned on one lamp, and it took Ed a minute to notice his phone - playing soft tinny Christmas music - and the mug on the countertop beside his thigh.

"Hi," said Ed, grinning, and Devon pulled a chipmunk-cheeked face and chewed his cookie.

"Shut up," he said, though it sounded like 'Fut up.' "I fought oo were Jay." He swallowed. "I thought you were Jay. He gets all tingly with rage when I sit here."

"And look at you, doing it anyway," said Ed. "Badass." He reached one hand up and Devon neatly ducked so Ed could open the cabinet behind him and pull down a mug. Ed grabbed the box of hot chocolate mix off the counter and pulled out a packet. The floor was very, very cold on his bare feet.

"Your secret's safe with me," he promised, tugging lightly at the two dangling strings of Devon's hat.

"I'm not very badass if it's secret," Devon said, but he was smiling at Ed in that unfocused way that he had when he wasn't wearing his glasses. It was unfairly cute.

"Do you _want_ me to tell Jay you had your ass on the counter again?" he asked, pouring milk into his mug and setting it down so he could dump in the mix.

"Please no," said Devon. "One lecture was enough."

Mug safely in the microwave, Ed turned to Devon, resting his hip against the counter beside Devon's knee. "Sorry about the-" He gave a couple of demonstrative snores.

Devon smiled over the rim of his mug and slid the tin of cookies across the counter. It was an actual gingerbread-man-shaped tin of cookies; baker roommate Emi would get mad at him for the gender essentialism, but Ed loved girl roommates. "Your strip just didn't want to stay on tonight." Devon lightly tapped the bridge of Ed's nose with one finger, while Ed bit the leg off a gingerbread man. "It was the last one and I put it back on so many times the sticky stuff wasn't sticky anymore."

"There was another box in the desk drawer. I picked them up yesterday."

Devon slowly smiled, and accused, "You aced perfect boyfriend school, didn't you?"

"I was kind of slow at first, but I think I got there eventually," Ed said, and he was treated to one of Devon's smiles that always killed him; the one where his entire face went soft.

"You totally did," Devon said, breathy, and he leaned in close, and the microwave timer dinged.

Ed laughed, and then he pecked Devon on the mouth and opened the microwave door. "So what're you doing up?" he asked as he sprinkled cinnamon into his cocoa. He saw the Look that Devon shot him, out of the corner of his eye. "Right, I know why you're awake - sorry." Devon laughed and nudged at him with one slipper. "But why're you down here? You usually just punch me til I stop snoring."

"I lightly shake you until you wake up," Devon said primly. "Or I poke your face, with love. There's a difference."

"Okay," he said, laughing, and he leaned on the counter beside Devon's knee. "You're not answering the question, though."

Devon was weirdly, ominously quiet. After a few seconds, Ed looked up. Devon was staring down like his mug held the secrets of the universe instead of some seriously cheap Swiss Miss.

"Dev?"

"I'm trying to think of a way to say this," he said, which was even more ominous. 

Ed couldn't think of anything good that could be coming. He tried not to jump to the subject of post-graduation life but it was hard not to, given how often it'd been discussed lately and how much it'd been on his mind. He'd thought they agreed to stay together, but what if Devon was changing his mind?

Ed rested his hand on Devon's knee and tried not to look freaked out. "What's up?"

Devon was watching his finger trace along the rim of his own mug. "Seeing Vanessa today - I don't know." He sucked in a breath and continued with nervy energy, like he was cutting off an objection or like he wanted to keep Ed from interrupting. "I know, I know, we're in a totally different place now, and I'm a better person, and she's presumably a better person, and you're the star of my own personal best boyfriend school, but - I don't know."

Ed put his mug down on the counter and stepped in between Devon's knees. "What?"

"She just really messed with my head." He pulled a face. "No - we really messed with each others' heads. Seeing her, I don't know." He shrugged. "Brought it back a little."

Ed didn't know exactly what he was talking about, but he could read Dev's casual shrugs and self-deprecating eye rolls.

"Okay," he said, with a sense of quiet relief that this wasn't about what would happen in May. He thought about it for a minute, then stepped back and offered him a hand. "Come on."

"It's two in the morning; where are we going?" Devon asked, but he took his hand and hopped down off the counter.

"It's a secret," he said, and then pulled him into the living room and pointed at the couch in front of the Christmas tree.

"You're such a dork," he said, but he was smiling again.

"You love it, dude," said Ed. Somehow, they managed to get settled without a drop of cocoa spilling, Devon with his back against the armrest and Ed sitting between his legs. It was a little precarious, wedged in on a narrow couch, but they made it work. Ed pulled Shakima's throw blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over their legs. Devon looped his arms around him from behind. 

"Shakima's gonna kill us if she finds us like this and thinks we've been getting frisky," Devon said, chest rising and falling under Ed's back, and he clapped a hand over Ed's mouth when he barked a too-loud laugh.

Ed kept laughing against his palm for a few seconds, and then, when Devon lowered his hand, he said, "Again."

"Again," Devon allowed, his voice a hilarious mix of chagrin and struggling-not-to-laugh. "Listen, she was supposed to be in _New Jersey_ , how was I supposed to know she had a fight with her mom and was coming home two days early-"

Ed was laughing quietly into his mug.

" _You_ should have known; you're the one she texted-"

"I was busy," said Ed, grinning.

"Yeah, yeah," said Devon, gently jabbing him with his knee.

"We won't make out on the couch again, it'll be fine," Ed promised, twisting to press a kiss to the first part of Devon he could reach, which happened to be the stubbly underside of his chin.

Dev huffed an amused sound and they went quiet. The house was still, aside from the hum of the refrigerator and the radiators' occasional creaking groan. There was distant thudding and scraping outside, a plow clearing the next block.

Devon rested his mug on Ed's hip, the base of the mug a warm circle even through his sweats. "So why'd you drag me in here?"

"I was really cold in the kitchen," Ed said, and Devon laughed softly and jostled him a little harder with his knee. "That and I thought you maybe wanted to talk about it."

Dev was quiet, and Ed waited. "Not really," he finally said, sounding thoughtful. "Not in a bad way; I just had a lot of leftover high school insecurity happening freshman year, and I don't think there's a lot to talk about now. Vanessa and I were shitty to each other, nobody was a model of adult behavior. It's ancient history."

"Insecurity? I remember you being the one who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted."

"I like you. You can stay," said Devon, patting his chest, and then he left his hand there. "But shut up, you knew who you were and what you wanted."

"Eventually," he said. "And I didn't want anybody else to know about it at first."

"Yeah, okay, Mr. 'Came to the Spring Formal with a Sign That Said "I Love You" and Then Kissed Me in Front of Everybody in the Frat You Wanted to Pledge.' You're way too hard on yourself," he said.

"So are you."

Devon breathed a soft sound against the back of his neck and squeezed Ed a little tighter. Ed thought he was smiling.

"You're right," Ed said. "All that stuff was three years ago." He rested his hand over Devon's warm wrist, letting two fingers slip under the rope bracelets he never took off. "And we're good now."

"Obvi," said Devon cheerfully.

Outside the window, snow eddied under the street light; all the neighbors' houses were dark except for the Riveras, who left their white Christmas lights on 24/7. Inside, Devon was breathing evenly behind him. Ed took a deep breath. "We're definitely staying together after graduation, right?"

"I thought we talked about this," he said. "You can't get rid of me- Um." He stopped short. "That was supposed to be flirty but I think it came out, like, serial killer."

"Hello, Clarice?" Ed suggested in an imitation that wasn't half-bad, if he said so himself.

Devon jerked so hard he almost flailed Ed's mug of cocoa out of his hand. "Don't do that!"

"Shhhhh, shh shh," Ed managed around his laughter; "sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Can we just back up for a minute?" he said, kicking Ed's foot. "We were having a moment, til you got creepy."

"Okay," said Ed, grinning. "How far back do you want to go?"

"So..." Ed heard Devon swallow. "We're doing this, right?"

"I'll move with you, wherever you get into grad school," he promised.

"It might be Alaska, Ed. What if it's Alaska?"

"I've always wanted to see polar bears." He stopped as a sudden, sad thought struck him. "Are there still polar bears in Alaska?" His fingers itched for Google on his phone.

"Take this seriously!"

"I am," he said; "global warming's no joke. You study it, you should know."

"Ed."

"I wanna be where you are. It'll only be two years, then we can go anywhere we want. I'll get a job. It'll be good," Ed said calmly, recognizing the sharp edge of a looming freak-out in Devon's voice.

"You won't blame me for ruining your life if we end up in Juneau?"

"First of all, the University of Alaska campus you want is in Fairbanks-"

He sounded charmed. "You _were_ paying attention when I did my applications."

"-and there'll be polar bears, maybe, and definitely cool people and new experiences and you, so it'll be great." He laid his head on Devon's shoulder so he could look back and up at him. He was starting to smile in the dim light. "Try not to worry too much."

"Why would I worry, when we're graduating with tens of thousands in student loan debt in the middle of the worst recession since the Great Depression and I'm about to rack up even more debt? Why worry?"

"Okay, you can worry about that other stuff as much as you want. But don't worry about _me_." He used the fingers still hooked under Devon's bracelets to gently shake his wrist. "You and me, we're solid."

Devon was quiet for a minute. From where he was sprawled, Ed could mostly see his jaw; he was definitely smiling.

"You're hoping for Alaska, aren't you?" said Devon.

"Oh, totally," Ed said, because: obviously.

"You're a weirdo," he said, kindly.

"Quit bad mouthing Alaska!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sure he's a very nice state."

Ed laughed and he settled more comfortably against Devon, who tightened the arm wrapped around his chest and kissed his ear. They watched the tree together, snow occasionally visible swirling in the dark window behind it. Devon's phone was still playing quiet Christmas music, no lyrics and all chiming bells. The lights were warm and bright, and Ed had the presence of mind to put his mug on the coffee table and take Devon's out of his drooping hand before he fell asleep.

In the morning, he was woken by a loud voice, which was a wordless drone at first but then coalesced into 'you assholes!'

Ed opened his eyes and found himself staring at Devon's hoodie and the couch, as he'd apparently rolled over and shoved his face into Dev's neck at some point during the night.

"Under my _blanket_?"

He shut his eyes against Shakima's voice and tried to burrow further into Devon and the couch.

"We fell asleep with hot cocoa," Devon was saying even as he curled his arms around Ed, because he was the best boyfriend. "It's not like it was anything x-rated, Shakima."

"Oh, 'cause _that's_ never happened before!" Shakima was in her element now. To be fair, she did have reason to complain - she'd walked in on Hanna and her boyfriend three times and Ed and Devon once, over the course of the new couch's life this fall.

"That was _one_ time, when we thought we'd be alone in the house, with everybody's clothes on!" Devon whined.

"You couldn't have taken it to your room?!"

"The Sox just won game six of the World Series and he knew what the infield fly rule was," Ed muttered plaintively into Devon's neck, and he heard one of the guys start laughing, so apparently they had an audience. 

"Shakima, you're totally complaining about the wrong thing here," said Robbie's voice. "Ed. The snoring, man. Legendary. Go do it somewhere else; the rest of us don't have Devon's superpowers. I think Emi's gonna kill you."

Emi was five feet tall. "I can take her," Ed mumbled, and he heard Emi laugh condescendingly.

"O-kay," said Devon. "Come on, Ed. Time for up."

Ed groaned.

"I know you're literally the worst morning person in the world, but you've gotta get up, baby." Devon tried to move out from under him. It wasn't that Ed didn't want to let Dev up so much as he didn't want to get up himself. He didn't budge.

Devon struggled for a minute, but Ed benefited from the simple facts that Devon didn't want to hurt Ed or throw him on the floor and thus he wasn't trying very hard.

He flopped. "A little help here?" he said, and then, "Ed. You're crushing me."

Ed sat up; all the way up, til his back was against the opposite armrest.

"Thank you," said Devon, and he patted his knee and scrambled up. His hat was still on, but hanging askew. Ed smiled sleepily at the sight - resolutely ignoring Shakima rolling her eyes at them, and Robbie, Hanna and her boyfriend, and Emi laughing - and shut his eyes.

"Noooope, nope nope," said Dev, and when he grabbed Ed's hand, Ed let him haul him to his feet. "Yeah, okay, this way-" Devon slid an arm around his waist and kind of walked with him but mostly pushed him along.

"You could at least open your eyes," Devon said, and then said, "Stairs," making it completely unnecessary for Ed to open them. There was a chorus of cheerful, mocking yells of "Good night!" which Ed ignored, too. They went upstairs, and Devon said, "Bed." When Ed opened his eyes, though, they were still shuffling through the hall.

"Ha!" Devon crowed. "Made you look."

Once in Devon's room, Ed fell facefirst straight into the rumpled bed. Devon pulled the covers over him, because he was the best, then made him roll over, because he was the worst. A desk drawer opened and closed, and Ed felt Devon's careful fingers sticking a Breathe Right strip across the bridge of his nose. He kissed it when he was done, which made Ed smile with the swell of affection he felt.

"Come sleep with me," he said, making a blind swipe and managing to hook an arm around the back of Devon's neck.

"Just for a couple minutes," said Devon, the bed dipping under his weight. "I've got to pack and study for my Forest Economics final."

They slept all morning and into the afternoon. Devon complained, but even he had to admit that it was a glorious winter nap.


	5. Fairbanks

"I got stuck," Devon said.

It was probably an unnecessary statement, given that he was standing in the middle of their tiny studio apartment, hopelessly tangled in blinking Christmas lights.

"Okay," Ed said slowly, hands still raised from where he'd stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Devon. Loose snow drifted off his shoulders and was beginning to drip off his boots. He started to smile. It only did wonderful things for the beard that Devon was still half-heartedly, stubbornly claiming to hate.

"Shh," said Devon. "It was supposed to be a thoughtful surprise for when you got home from work. Help me."

"How did this even happen?" He tugged off his hat and scarf, toed out of his boots, hung his coat on the back of the door, and left his backpack in the hall. 

"I finished finals, I bought some crappy lights, and I used my shoulders and my feet as places to put them after I untangled them," he said; very patiently, he thought.

"I don't think you untangled them," he said kindly, clearly on the verge of uncontrollable laughter, and he pulled out his phone. Devon shot him a long flat look as he took his picture.

"Don't post that on Facebook," he said. "Or Instagram, _or_ Reddit."

"I don't even have Instagram or Reddit accounts," he pointed out, doing something on his phone and then setting it down. Somewhere near the bed, Devon's iPhone beeped the sound of an incoming traitorous email alert.

"It's not like you need them, since you just _tagged me on Facebook, didn't you?_ "

"It's cute," Ed said. "You just need some popcorn strings."

"Old school," Devon said, approving despite himself.

Ed laughed. "Do we even have a tree?" he asked, looking around.

"It's at the back door," said Devon mournfully.

Ed looked like he was struggling not to laugh again. He stepped in and carefully slipped a coil of lights up over Devon's head. He paused. "You really did get a real tree."

"It'd be a pretty weird thing to lie about."

"You smell like pine needles. You have pine needles in your _hair_ ," he said, and he was chuckling now, brushing his hands through Devon's hair. Pine needles rained down on his shoulders.

"I have battle scars," Devon told him, lifting his hands as well as he could, considering that he was a human knot of Christmas lights.

Ed's face softened as he saw the scraped, sap-covered state of Devon's fingers. "I love you," he said, taking Devon's hand in his and bending to kiss the edge of his palm. "Okay. New plan."

Devon raised his eyebrows, expectant.

"We get you out of here, order a pizza, and get this bad boy up."

He smiled, then twisted and said, "I think the end is down here somewhere-"

When the lights were coiled in a glowing heap on the floor and Devon's hands had been liberally splattered with soap and bandaids, Devon put on his favorite Pandora playlist and shook his ass vigorously to "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" while Ed laughed so hard he almost dropped the actual Christmas tree. They didn't have a ton of ornaments, but they still had the leftovers donated by Devon's mom years ago, and the tree actually looked pretty once it was all strung up in the $5 lights Devon bought at Walmart. The menorah on their tiny folding table, which he'd never packed away again after Hanukkah, added to the ambiance. Devon wasn't the most observant Jew - he wasn't observant at all, to be totally honest; sorry, Dad - and he thought the attempted equation of Hanukkah to Christmas was commercialized and ignorant, but he liked the high holiday and Hanukkah traditions that he remembered from childhood. He liked teaching them to Ed. He liked making their own traditions.

They admired the tree, kicked back on the couch with their feet on the coffee table, eating pizza out of the open box on Ed's lap.

" _That_ ," said Devon, some kind of ungodly jingly muzak (which he loved) playing quietly on his laptop, "you can put on Facebook."

"No way," he said. "Half the people who've commented think you're our Christmas tree or some kind of modern art project; I can't take that away from them."

Devon snorted. "You're a man of the people, Ed."

"It looks great," said Ed, and he lightly bumped their shoulders together - or at least, Devon was pretty sure that was what he was going for, except that they were already leaning so hard into each others' shoulders that Ed mostly just wound up jabbing Devon with his elbow.

"Of course," said Devon. "It just needs some construction paper chains for a garland and then it'll be perfect."

"Or..." said Ed, wistfully. "I know how you feel about tinsel, but-"

This was the moment of truth. Devon sat up, looked around, put his half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box, and started hunting around the couch.

"What're you-" Ed started, and then Devon pulled the plastic bag from Walmart out from under his ass. Ed shot him a look that was half amused and half rueful; Devon ignored it and produced the squashed package of silver tinsel. 

Ed's face shifted in that surprised, delighted way that always made Devon feel like he was melting into a hapless puddle, even now, four years after he first saw it in a freshman literature class. Ed reached out and slowly took the package from Devon, still looking awed, and then he put his slice of pizza down and met Devon's eyes.

They took a long break from finishing the tree.

Much, much later that night, when Devon signed into Facebook, he saw that Ed had posted a picture of their finished product.

Ed was snoring in bed beside him now, because he always passed out like a ridiculous log after he came. Devon absently elbowed him in the back til he rolled onto his side and the snoring stopped. 

It was a nice picture of their tree, even if Ed did use the cheesiest filters. He'd slapped one on this picture and captioned it "i love this guy!"

An old teammate of Ed's from college commented to ask whether he was talking about the tree or the boyfriend. Shakima was next up, writing, "have you MET ed?? the boyfriend, obviously," and both comments were liked several times. Devon kept scrolling.

"TINSEL, Devon?" his brother wrote. "TINSEL???"

"WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE!!" crowed Robbie. "WE HAVE COOKIES!!!!!" He linked to a Vine of himself throwing his fists in the air and roaring like - well, like some guys would react to their favorite sportsball team winning a championship.

"I liked your first 'tree' better, what'd you do with Devon??" Lizzy wrote, and she capped off her comment with about a million emojis.

"Srsly?" wrote Hanna. "This is how the great tinsel war of 2011-2012 ends? BOO U TRAITOR"

A new friend from Devon's masters program corrected Hanna to turn her comment into a _Mean Girls_ reference.

Devon laughed too loudly and then glanced to the side, but Ed didn't stir. He smiled.

He leaned over and put away his tablet, and turned off the lamp. It was dark outside - it had been ever since the sun went down that afternoon. Inside, though, the electric blanket was warm and the tree was set on the slowest blinking pattern, multicolored light washing across Ed's sleeping face. Devon hummed the first two lines of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" to himself, smiling, and he switched off the lights.


End file.
